Forever?
by XxXxCrImSoN.rOsEs.FoR.yOuXxXx
Summary: White. Everything was white. But that didn't stop the red from leaking in and staining the purity of it all.


She watched him from her corner, watched the white coat pace back and forth, occasionally emitting sounds and looking at her as though it expected an answer. The long, scratchy white gown she was wearing matched both the coat and the walls. White. Everything white. As though that would stop the red from leaking in and staining the purity of it all.

She narrowed her eyes at the coat, which was now brandishing a large piece of paper at her. She looked at the crayons it was holding. So that's what it wanted. Every day it wanted this. She didn't know why. It must have hundreds of them already, the same picture drawn over and over without any difference. The reason she was here, stranded on a white island where everything she did was watched. Watched.

Red eyes peering at her 

_Through the window._

_A flash of light._

_A pointed smile._

She took the paper and, ignoring the coats hopeful look, selected the red crayon. Eyes. Red, always red. Staring. At her. Leaking and staining and killing and hating and loving and watching and…

The red crayon flew through the air, hitting the coat and staining it. Funny how the crayon could make the stain widen ever so quickly and envelope the whiteness of it all. The crayons colour dripped to the floor and the coat fell down. She watched it twitch, reminding her of a puppet. She pulled the crayon out of the coat and continued drawing…

……..

"Wendy! Tell us a story!" Her brothers chorused, smiles on both faces.

She gave them a wide-eye look, " About what?"

"Peter!"

"Peter?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I suppose I could…"

She ran to her bed and pulled the covers around her in a pink cloud. She patted beside her and both boys obediently jumped up beside her.

"Once there was a boy named Peter. He lived in Neverland…"

A cold breath played across her face. She opened her eyes with a start to see a pair of red eyes staring at her. She blinked and they disappeared.

"Only a dream." She murmured.

But the room was still cold. She looked over the window and saw that it had been opened. She shook her head. Her brothers, no doubt.

She slipped off the bed and padded barefoot across the floor. She reached the window and placed her hand against the cool glass. She took a deep breath that burned her throat and pushed the window closed.

She turned to go back to bed and opened her mouth o scream. The shadow lunged across the open space and roughly put its hand over her mouth.

She whimpered faintly. The red eyes were watching her again, this time on the shadow. But it wasn't a shadow. It was a boy, with black hair and white eyes. He was clothed in leaves, black leaves. They were wet, but she didn't know with what.

He took his hand from her mouth and replaced it with his lips. Red lips. She raised her hand to slap him and he laughed and jumped to the corner. But he was still in the air. He was… flying.

He raised his eyebrows and she backed away. He flew at her once more, a silver dagger in his hand. She winced when it scratched her cheek. She could feel the blood welling up and dribbling, a crimson river. He put his finger to the cut before she could move and flew back to his corner. Making sure she was watching him, he put his finger to his mouth and licked it with a startling pink tongue.

She shuddered and he smiled, a pointed smile. Two of his teeth were sharp, like a dagger. A silver dagger.

He pointed at her, " Mine."

She shook her head and took a step back.

He narrowed his eyes and in a second was at her, pinning her arms to the wall. He put his lips to her ear, " You are mine. I waited for you, waited until you left the window latch unlocked. I listened, you know. About Peter."

She closed her eyes and whispered, "Peter?"

"Yes, Peter. I am Peter. But your stories were wrong, you know. There are no other boys there. There are no pirates. There's just… me. And soon, there will be you." He smiled again and pressed the dagger to her hand. Unwittingly, her fingers closed around the cold handle.

"No. I made Peter up. He's not real- you're not real. This is just… a dream."

He laughed, and it sent shivers down her back, "A dream? No. Dreams aren't this sweet." She felt a brush against her cheek and realized he was sucking the blood from his finger.

She tried to step back but the wall stopped her.

"Come with me, Wendy. Come away with me and leave all this." He whispered, releasing her and stepping back.

She stepped forward, unwilling for him to leave and her foot stepped in something warm. Something red. It was creeping up on her, from the beds. She didn't want to look, but they called to her. The beds loomed in front of her. She stopped at the foot and looked down.

Blood. Around their heads, like demented crimson halos. Their eyes were open, accusing.

He was behind her, his arms were around her, " They didn't want you to leave." He said, as though she would understand.

She understood. She was still holding the dagger and tried to stab him, stab the one who had killed Them. He was laughing again. He wagged his finger in front of her nose and frowned.

Realization hit her.

…….

The last thing they heard before the screaming was laughter. They found her clutching a silver dagger and sobbing about a boy, a boy who had come through a window.

She kept shaking the shoulders of her brothers, a through they would wake up and laugh, as though their lifeless bodies were just sleeping.

She was put in an institution, the best institution. They reasoned that this would bring life back to her eyes.

But the white was always stained to her, always red…

…..

She watched the coat and slowly… very slowly… put her finger to the red. Brought it to her mouth. It was sweet, sweeter than anything.

She looked to the window… the eyes were there, watching. She heard noises at the door and walked to the window, watched as he lifted it up. Took his hand. Fell out of the window.

_She fell, they said._

_Right through the window._

_A bloody angel._

_They buried her_

_With her brothers._

_She was beautiful,_

_In death._

He took her hand, whispered in her ear. She was his now. She never had to see white again as the crimson river lapped at her ankles. The forest was dark, yet inviting. She had him and never had to let him go. She would be with him forever. Forever is an awfully long time.


End file.
